


Fifty Shades Unraveled

by daxiana



Category: 50 Shades of Grey - E. L. James
Genre: F/M, Sequel to Fifty Shades Of Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daxiana/pseuds/daxiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Fifty Shades Of Secrets. It is time for Christian's secrets to come out...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Here Comes The Boom

Anastasia’s POV

I groan and turn around, fumbling around until I manage to turn off the damn alarm. I let out a deep, long sigh. New day, new week, same old shit. I had troubles adjusting to my routine ever since he left more than a week ago. I turn my head and glance at the empty, cold side of my bed. His side. Not that he used it much, as I usually woke up with him all over me.

I push these thoughts away and get up. There’s no point in dwelling on this. Nothing I can do about it. I’m angry with myself, because the truth is that I miss him. I had trouble sleeping, too. My nights were consumed with dreams of him, some of them bordering dangerously close to nightmares of his leaving. I didn’t want to resort to medication again. The pills seemed to make all my demons appear in the dark of the night. They helped me get a good night sleep, sure. But they also prevented me from waking up if I were to have a nightmare.

I make myself a cup of tea and go to the bedroom to change. I put on my running gear and I grab my I-pod, exiting the apartment. A run will do me some good. My brain always seems to shut off during a run. I concentrate only on moving my muscles, only on making the next step.

Half an hour later I return to the apartment, heading straight to the shower. I’m just finishing styling my hair when the doorbell rings.

“Hey Jose” I greet my best friend, letting him in. “I’m almost ready” I holler as I return to my bedroom.

“I wanted to see if you feel like letting me drive you to work today. Maybe grab a cup of coffee or something on our way.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I could have taken a cab.” I tell him as I return to the living room, grabbing my office bag.

He just shrugs and smiles. “What are best friends/bodyguards for?”

I roll my eyes at him and punch him in the shoulder. “Come on, I have a meeting at 9. I can’t be late.”

“Have you found out where we’re going next? You’re nearly done here, right?” he asks me as he holds the back door of the car open for me.

“Not exactly.” I say to him once he positions himself in front of the steering wheel. “I guess to New York…You know you don’t have to follow me everywhere, don’t you?”

I see him in the rearview mirror giving me a pointed look. “You know that if it’s not me, your father will just send someone else.” He says, shrugging.

“I know” I grumble. 

“Hey, at least I let you have 2 weeks affairs without telling your father” he snickers, giving me a wink.

I giggle a little. “I know” I say, reaching over to rub his shoulder. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

He shrugs again. “What are…”

“I know, I know.” I cut him off. “I just wish you’d do something you like. Like study photography and open that gallery you used to dream about.”

“I am doing something I like. I take care of you. And I have enough spare time to take a ton of photos while I wait around.” He says, then gets out of the car and opens the door for me.

I exit the car and take his arm, entering the coffee house. After getting our caffeine fix, we continue the ride to the office. 

“The truth is…I don’t know what I would do without you. I know I don’t tell you enough, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” I say to him, after the car stops in front of the office building. I give him a hug when I exit the car. “I love you so much. You’re like a brother to me.”

He chuckles and returns the hug. “And I’m proud to call you my sister. Hey, what’s with the sappy Ana today?” he teases.

“I don’t know” I say, pulling back and sniffling. “I think I’m about to start my period or something.”

“Ew, too much information.” He says, laughing. 

“Do you plan going away for lunch?” he asks me, escorting me to my office. 

“Nope…but if that changes, I’ll let you know.”

“Mmmkay. See ya!” he says, rounding the corner to the security offices.

I sigh and enter the office, putting my office bag on a chair. I take a sip of my coffee and turn on the computer. 

“Good morning, Miss Steele.” Adele, my assistant greets me. 

“Good morning, Adele. Any messages?”

“Yes, Mr. Rombaud called and canceled your 9 am meeting. He said he’s terribly sorry, but he has to deal with a family emergency.”

“Okay. That’s fine.” I grumble, checking my e-mail. “Anything else?”

“No, miss. That is all. Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you, Adele.”

I lean back in my chair and return her smile, as she exits my office. It seems I’ll twiddle my thumbs today. I pick up the phone and dial Kate, even though it must be close to midnight in Seattle. I haven’t talked with her in ages.

“Hey Steele” she answers cheerfully.

I giggle. “Hey Kavanagh. I didn’t know if you were still up, but I thought I could try.”

“No worries. Deadlines, you know. Watcha doin’?”

I start laughing at her antics. “Nothing much. I had some free time on my hands and I thought I should check up on you.”

“Cool. I feel like we haven’t talked in ages. I miss you, you know. Maybe you find time for a quick visit soon.”

“We’ll see. I don’t know. I’m almost done here in Paris. After that, who knows?”

“That would be awesome. So…you still owe me some details regarding a certain mystery man.”

“Oh…that” I gulp. I hate sharing my private life.

“Yes, that. Come on…” she whines.

“It’s not much to tell. We met in a bar. We spent about two weeks together. Our time was over, so he left.” 

“What are you talking about?” she asks, confused.

“Well, we made a deal. He was here on business. So, we agreed to see each other until one of us has to leave. He left first.”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with the real Anastasia Steele?” 

I laugh genuinely at that. “Come on, Kate…”

“No, seriously. I never saw you with a man before. And now you tell me you finally decided to live a little and as a first experience you started an affair?”

“Yes”

“Wow, he must be really hot to get your attention.”

“He is, but that’s not the point. He…well he was the only man I felt attracted to…”

“So I finally have evidence you’re not made of stone.” She replies, in her usual manner, giggling.

“Kate…” I say warningly.

“Okay, okay. So…what’s his name?”

“Elliot Grey” I answer, distracted by a new e-mail.  
“What?” Kate asks, sounding shocked.

“Elliot Grey I said. Why?”

A long silence passes between us and I can hear her labored breaths.

“Kate?” I ask concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah…” she says, sounding nothing like herself.

“You know him?” I ask her surprised and intrigued.

“We used to date. I mean I don’t even know if it’s the same Elliott Grey, but…we dated a few years back.”

“What?” I ask, completely shocked.

“No big deal, Steele…” 

“Kate, I swear I didn’t know. When did you date him?”

“It was the summer after our graduation. After you left for Europe and started working for your father. It was…uhm…we dated for about two months, but then he had to go. He had a project in Australia, so…we stayed in contact for a while, but we lost touch after a while, you know? I mentioned him to you, but you were kinda busy then, so…” she finishes. I can hear her sniffling.

“Kate, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Believe me…” I leave out the part that his name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. 

“It’s okay. I mean, it was a long time ago…” she says, laughing pathetically.

“Kate, please…”

“Sorry Steele, I have to go. Talk to you later.”

I stare at the phone for a long time. I finally put it on my desk and I bury my face in my hands. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I knew I should’ve done a background check on him, but I didn’t want my father to find out and come here to smother me.

Shit. I let out a long breath. I don’t know what to do. I have to make it up for her, somehow. But, really, what can I do? I mean I fucked the guy she dated and she sounded like she really liked him, too. God, I’m so stupid.

I bury myself in work, trying to forget about how I hurt my best friend. After an hour or so, I realize I can’t concentrate.

“Adele, could you bring me something to read and a tea, please?”

“Right away, miss.”

I lean my back on the chair and sigh. Adele enters the office a short while later with a cup of tea and two magazines tucked in her armpit.

“There you go, Miss Steele.”

“Thank you, Adele.”

I let my tea to cool off and I start flicking the magazines. They’re a little outdated, but they’ll do. I let myself pulled into the business world while I sip on my tea.

Suddenly, I come across an article about the Asian market and its investment opportunities. I tried making my father to invest in Asia for a while now, but he won’t hear about it for some reason. I don’t know why, seeing as the Asian market is doing far better than the European or American one at the moment. 

I flick the page to continue reading and I choke on my tea. There, on the middle column, it’s a big picture of Elliott.

I squint my eyes at the fine print underneath the picture. Christian Grey, CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings. This must be a mistake. I read the article anyway. Apparently this Christian person recently closed a deal with some Taiwanese company, earning some more billions in the process. Hmmm. The deal was closed last week, in Paris. What the fuck?

I stare at the caption a while longer, shaking my head incredulously. This is Elliott Grey. But, still, too many coincidences. 

I get up from the chair all of a sudden, knocking it over in the process and leap over to where my office bag is. I dump its contents on the couch and start searching for the piece of paper frantically. Not here. I grab the bag again and search its entire pockets, finally being able to pull the paper from one dark corner.

And right there, in front of me, black on white, written in a cursive, beautiful calligraphy appears the signature on the NDA. Christian Grey.

“Fucking hell!” I holler, throwing my bag at one of the windows.

I start pacing my office, fuming, yelling at poor Adele when she comes to check on me to hold all of my calls and to not be disturbed.

I grab the magazine with his picture and I rip off the page. I crunch the paper in my fists and I throw the paper on the floor, stomping on it furiously.

How could he? How dare he? After everything I have told him? After all the time we spent together? After everything we have done?

Stupid, stupid, stupid I think to myself as I bang my head on my desk. I trusted him. I told him things I never told anybody. And he fucking lied to me?

I get up and pace again, balling my hands in fists. I refuse to let my angry tears fall down my cheeks. He does not deserve my tears.

Why would he do something like this? Wait…GEH. It’s my father’s biggest competitor. Was this all a ruse? Did he use me for information? I don’t think so…seeing how he never asked anything about the company.

But, then? What was all about? Seduce the poor billionaire’s daughter as a way to hurt my father? I don’t get it. What was the plan? What were the reasons behind all this?

I rub my eyes, surely smearing my make up in the process. I don’t care. I take the crumpled page and I tore it apart in a thousand little pieces. There, now I feel a little better.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. My stomach is in knots, I feel bile rise in my throat and my chest hurts. I hope I don’t have a fucking anxiety attack right now.

I feel used. I feel dirty. I feel betrayed.

I take random things off my desk and I swing them at the opposite wall, smashing them. Anger is good. Anger keeps the panic at bay.

I take a couple more deep breaths and I steady my heartbeats. I can feel the anxiety leaving my blood, slowly. I drop myself to the floor and I hug my knees to the chest, continuing the process. 

There. I feel calmer. Steady heartbeat, regular breaths. I push my disheveled hair out of my face and I get up. I straighten my clothes and I pick up my phone.

“Miss Steele?” Matthew Riley’s voice comes out of the phone, sounding shocked.

“Matt, hi. How’s my favorite head of IT?” I ask in a fake, sweet voice.

“G-good miss. W-w-what c-c-can I do f-for you?” Matt stammers. Poor guy, father says he had a crush on me since he first met me. He’s probably the most intelligent person I know, but he’s a mess even bigger than I am at social encounters. Still, I genuinely like the guy. As one social freak to another.

“I need a favor from you. But you can’t tell my father.” I tell him seriously.

“I don’t know, miss. I want to help you, but…” he says, apparently recovering himself once he heard the seriousness of my tone.

“Look, Matt. I’m not asking you to break into the CIA database.” I pause and he chuckles. “I need some information. I assume you have the background check on Christian Grey.”

“Of course, Miss. The extended version.” He answers proudly.

“Good, and a complete profile based on the news clippings?”

“Yes, Miss. As he is BPG’s main competitor, we monitor him and his company very closely.”

“I figured. Send them to me, please.”

“Of course, Miss.”

“And don’t mention it to my father.”

“As you wish.”

“Thank you, Matt. You never disappoint me.”

“T-thank you, miss.”

“Goodbye, Matt.”

“Have a good day, Miss Steele.”

I end the call and I return to my desk, taking a seat in front of my computer. I lean back, my hands up to my mouth with the fingers interlaced, trying to hide my big Chesire cat grin. Oh, Christian Grey, you danced with the wrong devil!


	2. Alleviation

Christian’s POV

“Come here you little shit!” he says, attempting to catch me by my ankles and drag me out from under the table. I whimper and scoot back, getting as close as I can to the wall behind me. I can smell his breath as he looks at me with those beady mean eyes. He has one of those sticks coming out of the corner of his mouth. I don’t like the sticks. They smell funny and they make my chest hurt every time he touches me with one of them. I whimper again and bury my head in my knees. I start trembling when I remember the way they hurt me. At first I can feel my skin stinging, but as he keeps them down, the stinging increases and turns into pain. And the pain doesn’t stop until the scab is gone.

Suddenly, I see him flinging backwards and someone is kicking him in the shins, yelling at him to leave me alone. He disappears from my line of view and a little girl ducks her head under the table and looks at me, with her hand extended. She has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I seem to trust her, maybe because of those big, blue eyes and I take her hand. When I get out from under the table we aren’t in the apartment anymore, but in a beautiful meadow, full of flowers, butterflies and green, fresh grass. I close my eyes and let the sun caress my skin.

“Why did you lie to me, Christian?” the girl says. Only now she’s not a little girl anymore, but a beautiful woman. I open my mouth to speak but I can’t get the words out. She shakes her head at my lack of response and starts to walk away. I try to stop her from leaving, but I can’t move. She fades away and everything around me is also fading away. I am back under the table, a little boy again, hiding from the mean man with the sticks.

I wake up with a start, my ears pounding, and my throat sore from the screaming. I can smell his sweat, and his sour breath. I can smell his cigarettes and my skin burning. Anastasia…

The dawn is barely here, the grey light enveloping the buildings of Seattle. I rub my hands over my face and get up. I ponder for a moment if I should go to the gym, but I decide against it. I shower and put on a suit, not paying too much attention to the details. Once fully dressed I exit my bedroom and go to the kitchen. Mrs. Jones greets me and takes my breakfast order, pushing a steaming cup of coffee into my hands. I turn on my heels and walk to my study, with every intention of burying myself in my work. 

I sip my coffee slowly while I wait for the computer to boot. It’s been twelve days since I last saw her. It’s also been twelve days since my nightmares reappeared. I miss her. Oh God, how I miss her. 

I can’t think of anything but her. She’s on my mind every moment of every day, from the time I get up until I go to sleep. She stars in my dreams now, too. She makes the nightmares more bearable. 

I can’t concentrate fully on anything. At first, this frustrated me a lot, but after a time I surrendered, getting used to doing everything with thoughts of her in the back of my mind. 

I would have never thought of my life before her as being dull, but that’s what it feels like now. My days are grey, repetitive, and sad. She brought color into my life, she brought change. I never liked change, but I wouldn’t mind being subjected to it now, especially if it would involve having her back in my life. 

I miss her so much. I feel my heart breaking into a thousand little pieces every time I think of her. I miss her smell, running my hands through her silky hair, kissing those soft lips, caressing that pale, perfect skin. Waking up next to her. Losing myself in her eyes, those beautiful blue pools. Losing myself in her.

I miss her touch, I yearn for her cuddles. I miss the way she feels around me. I miss her fire. I miss her passion. I miss her jokes. I miss her intuition. I miss her strength. I miss her stories. I miss the unique way in which she sees the world. I miss her perception. I crave her advice and the calmness she could bring me.

I ask myself the same questions day in and day out. Why couldn’t I just let her be that night in the bar? Why did she have to come back? Why did I have to break the deal? Why couldn’t we have met in a different place, at a different time? Why did I have to lie to her?

I can’t answer any of these questions. If I believed in God, I would surely think I’m being punished for my sins. If I believed in fate, I would surely think mine is a cruel one.

The only way I have been able to get through these days, the only coping mechanism that seems to relieve my yearning is fantasizing. Yes, I’ve created little fantasies of us. What it would be like to have her next to me, what it would be like to have a real relationship with her, how it would feel if she loved me. What would she say if I told her the truth? What it would be like to be married to her? I even started dreaming about our kids. 

I’m pathetic, I know. I don’t deserve her, I know that also. I’m just a shell of the man I used to be. The dominant side of me is lost. I thought about getting a new sub, but the thought disgusts me. I could never let another woman touch me. Washing away her touch and even me touching another woman terrifies me. The appeal of that lifestyle is gone. I’ve only gone into the playroom one. It was another lonely evening, when I was left to wander around the apartment lost in my thoughts. The mere sight of the punishment wall brought bile into my throat. All I could see was the image of Anastasia bound and bloodied. I threw away all of those implements; the belts, the canes, the whips, the cat o’ nine tails, and every paddle. The variety of these implements sickened me. I had them all, apart from rods. I never cared for those, because Elena used them on me frequently. I knew all too well what a switch or the birch could do and I hated them. They created a whole different level of pain. But I had everything else: canes made of rattan to those made of heavier materials, floggers from the straps to the taws along with an assortment of wood and leather paddles. I tossed away all the whips, as well. The Quirts, The Russian knout, the Sjambok, the bullwhips, the snake whips, everything. I even got rid of the martinet. 

There was no point in having them anymore. I could never hurt another human being again, even if it was consensual. Never. I’d only see Anastasia every time I closed my eyes. That much I realized. The thing I didn’t understand was why I did this, why I threw it all away. It puzzled me, as it was a big part of who I am, or rather who I used to be. 

The days melted together, I started feeling bored, trapped. Routine was not good for me anymore, or at least a routine that didn’t include her in my life. Yet I know I would do the same fucking thing every fucking day if I could have her next to me. 

The only difference I felt was undeniably sinking into a deeper depression. Everybody was concerned about me. I spent even less time with my family than I did before and Ros was constantly appraising me, trying to gauge the reason why I always seemed lost in my daydreams. Mrs. Jones tried everything to improve my mood, including cooking all of my favorite foods. It didn’t matter to me, as all the food tasted like cardboard. Even Taylor tried to comfort me in his own way.

I realized I had problems. Big problems and I had to solve them. And thus I found myself reaching out to Flynn. It was the first time I’ve ever asked for his help voluntarily. And he sounded shocked when I booked the emergency session.

“You look like shit” John teased me as soon as I took a seat on his couch. 

I snorted, but didn’t reply. “How have you been, Christian?” he asked next.

I cocked my head to one side and raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?” the third question came. I didn’t respond, picking a spot on the wall behind him to focus on instead.

“Are you going to start talking sometime soon?”

I gazed at him and took a deep breath. “I met someone.” I stated simply.

He nodded. “A new sub?”

“No. She wasn’t my submissive.”

He paused to write something down in his notebook, after he got past his shock. “Okay. There are two things I would like to discuss about your last statement. First, why did you use the past tense, and second, what was your relationship with her if she wasn’t your sub?”

I took another deep breath, prepared to lay it out for him. “We aren’t together anymore.”

“Where did you two meet?”

“In Paris. Remember I had this deal some time ago…” He nods and makes a gesture at me to continue. “I saw her in the hotel bar one night and I felt attracted to her. So, I went over to talk to her, having every intention of bringing her back to my room with me. She completely blew me off. Not only that, but she got up and left, leaving me standing there looking like an idiot.”

I continued to tell him everything. I talked for what felt like hours, telling him every little detail. I told him about how we spent our time together, how I felt every time, about her past and family, about my reasons to lie to her, about our last night together and finally about how I hate myself now for lying to her. He listens to me intently, noting something every now and then. 

“So, I need your help now, John. I need you to sort these feelings out for me, because I feel like I’m going insane.”

“You do realize it’s the first time you’ve acknowledged that you need my help. I don’t even know what to say to you Christian. I know that in my line of work I’m not supposed to be shocked because of what I’m hearing, but you completely blew me away. I mean, you made a lot of progress in a short span of time. She’s good for you, Christian.”

I snort again. “But I’m no good for her. In fact, it’s good I lied to her, because she should stay away from me. I’m no different than the monster that abused her.”

“We’ll discuss that too, but maybe at another time. For now, tell me how you feel.”

I sigh deeply. “Well, I miss her. I miss everything about her. And I know I would give anything in the world for her to be next to me. I can’t stop thinking about her. I remember every moment we spent together and I fantasize about having more with her. I fantasize about me being a different man, one that would deserve her. I even created this little imaginary life together, a house with a white picket fence and a couple of kids and everything. I think I’m turning into an even bigger nutcase.” I say, burying my face in my hands.

John chuckles. “No, Christian. What are you feeling is normal. In fact, I’d say everyone experiences your feelings at least once in their life. You, my friend, are in love.”

My head snaps up and I look at him like he grew a second head. “Love?” I spit out. “I’m not capable of love, nor do I deserve to be loved. I don’t know how to love. I’m not in love with her, that’s for sure. Maybe obsessed or something…”

Flynn shakes his head. “Then, why was it so hard to leave her?”

“Abandonment issues.” I shrug.

“And that means that she was important enough to you to feel the dread of abandoning her. Next, why did you feel like your heart was being ripped from your chest when you left her?”

“Anxiety attack?” I shrug again.

Flynn lets out a belly laugh. “Come on, Christian. I don’t think you’re that thickskulled…”

I continue to look at him with my impassive expression. “Okay, okay…Tell me, what exactly do you miss about her?”

“I already mentioned that.” I huff, gripping my roots.

“Indulge me. Do you miss her only in a sexual way or you miss spending time with her?”

“Both” I state.

“And there you have it. Proof that this is not an obsession.” He says, stretching his hands in an exposition manner.

I ponder the situation for a moment. I had a feeling that maybe I was falling for her and now Flynn tells me the same thing. I believe he is right; after all, he has a lot more experience with this than I do.

“Look, Christian. We have a lot of work to do, a lot of things to sort through. But, for now, I believe it’s not only beneficial for you, but also very important that you talk to her. Tell her the truth. Stop beating around the bush and take the chance. You owe it to yourself, you owe it to her.”

“The truth? It would all be for nothing, as she wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me afterwards.” I say sullenly.

“Perhaps, but you have to accept this risk. One way or another you’ll know. Take a page out of her book and take a chance. But, be sincere this time. Talk to her, tell her how you feel, don’t hide your emotions anymore. Start communicating with her.”

I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I will be able to do this. I’m afraid of her reaction. But Flynn does have a point there….or several actually.

“Think about it Christian. Take your time to reach the decision. Ponder every aspect and remember, I’m here if you need more help. I think it would be highly beneficial for you to start a relationship with her. We still have a lot to sort through, as I said, but we’ll take it one step at a time. This is your first step, though. Tell her the truth.”

I nod and get up. I shake his hand and tell Taylor to bring the car around. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I head into the office, even though I have a feeling I won’t be able to pay attention to anything yet again.

Anastasia’s POV

The phone rings, bringing me out of my reverie. I pull it out of my bag and I glance at the caller ID.

“It’s my father.” I inform Jose, who is currently behind the wheel, trying to navigate through the busy streets of Manhattan.

“Good luck” he says, winking at me.

With a roll of my eyes I pick up the phone. “Hello, father.”

“Good evening, Anastasia. How are you? Good job on the New York contract, by the way.”

“Thanks. I’m on my way to the hotel.”

“I see. And I understand you’re heading to Seattle next, is it? I arranged the jet for you tomorrow morning.” 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Are you planning to visit Ray?” 

“Yes, of course. And I wanted some time off to spend with Kate, also.”

“I would hardly call it time off, seeing as you made preparations to acquire that company in Seattle. Any special reason you feel the need to take over that particular company? It seems a little astray from our usual dealings.”

“I thought it would be a good acquisition for the BPG portfolio. You know, risk diversification and all.” I respond, punching Jose’s shoulder as he starts snickering.

“Sure, sure…” my father says, but he seems unconvinced. “Whatever you say. If you want that company then you shall have it.”

“You make me sound like a brat, Papa.” I admonish. “Anyway, I’ll call you tomorrow after I land, okay?”

“Okay, Chérie. Take care of you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Papa.” I end the call and share a conspiratorial look with Jose.

“You know he’s not buying it. He will start to sniff around for the real reason soon.” He says after some time.

“I know. I just pray he won’t find it until I’ve made an offer.”


End file.
